


Zevran - Rain

by TheBearMuse



Series: Avalon Aeducan [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBearMuse/pseuds/TheBearMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran Arainai has plans for Avalon Aeducan, but Wynne has an agenda of her own...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zevran - Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fashionmodelbucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fashionmodelbucky/gifts).



> Part of my two word prompt series of drabbles. Prompted by NaViaLernoVictoria.

Lightning crackled overhead as the small party trudged through the Brecilian Forest. Zevran Arainai shook his head to dislodge the water from his left ear. He did not flinch when the thunder rumbled mere seconds later. It had stormed all day and half the night before, which meant that all their equipment was soaked through and smelled like wet dog.

As though sensing Zevran's thoughts, Lancelot bounded over to the elf and landed in a puddle, sending a cascade of water up to the assassin's knees. He cursed at the enthusiastic mabari, who barked happily and ran back over to his mistress. THEIR mistress, he supposed was more accurate, though he hesitated to think of his lover that way. Avalon Aeducan, though as wet as the rest of them, still somehow looked lovely in the downpour. Her pale skin and bright red hair gleamed in the filtered light, standing out against the grays of the forest. A single raindrop clung to the tip of her nose. Zevran was overwhelmed with the urge to take her in his arms and kiss the droplet away. Then he would kiss away the others before making his dear Warden forget who she was for a few hours.

"You must know that murder is wrong, I assume."

Unfortunately, that was going to have to wait.

Zevran slowly and deliberately turned to the handsome but meddlesome older mage to his left. "I'm sorry... are you speaking to me?"

"That is why you wish to leave your Crows," said Wynne. "A crisis of conscience."

Lancelot barked loudly and the tantalizing raindrop flew through the air and disappeared into a puddle as Avalon turned. "Yes, that is exactly it," he replied dryly.

If the mage suspected his attention was elsewhere, she gave no sign of it. "Joke if you wish, but I have the feeling that deep down you regret the life you have lived."

Zevran sighed dramatically. "It's true. I regret it all."

"Must you be such a child? Are you incapable of a single, serious conversation?"

Avalon laughed and scratched Lancelot between his ears. It was a pity that the dog had not drawn the mage's attentions instead. It was also a pity that the mage was intent on wasting both her time and his when she could be finding more pleasureable ways of passing that time. Zevran had overheard Wynne telling Avalon of her past exploits one night in camp. She was still a fine looking woman. What she appeared to lack was the desire to fully appreciate that fact. "I know. I am terrible and it makes me sad. May I rest my head in your bosom? I wish to cry."

Wynne sighed in exasperation. "You can cry well away from my bosom, I'm certain."

"Did I tell you I was an orphan? I never knew my mother."

"Egad. I give up." Wynne stormed ahead with a dark expression on her face. Zevran smirked at his victory. He looked up to resume watching Avalon, only to discover that she was falling back to walk by his side.

"What did you do to anger Wynne?" she asked.

He shrugged and gave her one of his most disarming smiles. "Our lady Wynne did not believe me when I told her that I regretted my life as an assassin."

Avalon raised an eyebrow and granted him one of her charmingly cynical smiles. "I can't imagine why she wouldn't believe that."

Zevran chuckled and raised his hands in mock surrender. "You know me too well, my dear."

The smile faded from his lover's face and she turned back to the path ahead. "We should hurry if we want to reach the Dalish camp before dark." Avalon whistled and Lancelot splashed happily back to her side as they picked up their pace, leaving Zevran following them in confusion. What had he done wrong?


End file.
